The Fragrance of Dark Coffee, Indeed
by Stefan-sama
Summary: Phoenix Wright fluff. Diego and Mia flashbacks from 8 years ago -T&T timeline- if you're looking at Apollo Justice, this would be 15 to the present-. Occasional cameos of Kristoph Gavin, Gumshoe, Phoenix, and Grossberg's hemorrhoids. And lots of coffee.
1. Coffee and Complications

**My first serialized fic. I'll try to update as quickly as possible. I'm still a newbie at this whole writing thing, so please be gentle when rating/reviewing...**

**Anyhow, on to the story itself. Mia and Diego are my absolute favorite characters in the series, as well as my favorite pairing. So tragic... The only backstory they had was provided in cases 1 , 4, and 5 of T&T, so I tried my hand at writing my own. As of this writing, Mia, Diego, Grossberg, Gumshoe, Nick, Maya, Pearls, Edgeworth, Kristoph, Eldoon (maybe his dad, the timeline wouldn't fit otherwise, since it states he had only been working at the stand for a year and a half in Apollo Justice) and the Judge (as well as some minor OCs)are either sceduled to appear, or already have (Gumshoe is slighty more subtle), so anyone who played the games should get a kick out of this fic. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. **

**The Dark Fragrance of Coffee, Indeed**

**Chapter 1: Coffee and Complications**

**9 Years Ago**

Alright. Briefcase, scarf, suit, magatama, cell phone… Nothing missing. Just don't forget to smile! "Mia Fey, reporting for duty, sir!"

The only person I knew here, Marvin Grossberg, opened the door and laughed heartily. "Ah, Mia, Mia! Punctual as ever! Come in quickly, it wouldn't do for you to catch cold on your first day of work…"

I thanked him and we headed inside. Mr. Grossberg showed us the secretary, who was too busy typing to notice us, as well as the bathrooms, which actually didn't smell as bad as you would think.

Finally, we got to the actual offices. Two things instantly grabbed my attention: one was the messiness, which would probably serve as fine evidence for an elephant stampede. Two was the intense, unmistakable scent of pure black coffee, which could probably kill the aforementioned elephants. "Ugh, Mr. Grossberg, what's with the coffee stench?!"

"Erm, I was hoping that you wouldn't notice that…" Who couldn't? The smell could raise the dead! "That would be Diego. You'll be studying under him until you can take on your own cases."

I groaned as we headed upstairs. Two years with this guy would be worse than two years trapped in a Lordly Tailor exhibition… As Mr. Grossberg opened the door, half the cells in my nose died. I don't think it was coincidence that the second floor of Grossberg Law Offices was completely empty, save for a lone occupied chair and desk, the occupant's back turned toward us. "Diego," said Mr. Grossberg, "your new apprentice has arrived."

The swivel chair spun around. The man was a tall one, maybe six and a half feet tall, seemingly of Mexican descent. He wore a bright red shirt and vest, which probably hid lots of muscles thanks to its bagginess. In his hand was- surprise, surprise- a coffee mug. His face; black, spiky hair, a trimmed, thin beard that clung to his chin, emitted an aura of cockiness and smugness. "Well, well. Look at the little kitten come to play…"

The man introduced himself as Diego Armando, 27 years old: senior defense attorney and coffee addict. He offered me a mug, claiming it to be his 101st blend. I took a sip. It was actually quite good, with a hint of milk chocolate and some cinnamon added to the mix.

"Really, Diego." sighed Mr. Grossberg. "Any more coffee and you'll end up killing yourself. What is that, your 17th cup this morning? My hemorrhoids ache just thinking about it…" I sprayed my coffee all over the office. _Seventeen cups by 8:00?!?!?_

Diego smirked. "Aw, is the kitten feeling okay?"

My face heated up in an instant. "Sh- Shut up! L- Let's just investigate the crime scene, alright?"

He chuckled. "Well, at least the kitten isn't _totally _wet behind the ears…"

We bade goodbye to Mr. Grossberg and stepped into the chilly January morning. Diego offered to drive us, but I declined: I trusted his Ferrari (along with his driving skills) no farther than I could throw it.

Los Angeles traffic was pretty much heck, so walking wasn't that bad anyway. The crisp winter air was good for the lungs. In Diego's case, switch that out with coffee. Speaking of the addict, he wanted to stop at a coffee shop. I sighed and agreed; there was probably no getting between this guy and java.

The ringing doorbell alerted the waiter to our presence. "Diego! Long time no see! What'll it be, the usual?" No surprise there, either.

"Hey, Norman. The usual." I could only guess as to what that was. "Anything you want, Mia?"

The question kind of caught me off-guard; Diego didn't really seem the type to treat others. "No thanks, maybe a water…" I replied.

He stroked his makeshift goatee in thought, gazing intently at the menu. "Alright, and a hot chocolate for the Kitten here. Both to go."

My cheeks flushed red for the second time in half an hour. "Diego!"

Both he and Norman laughed softly to themselves. "Embarrassed easily, I see…" Of course, that last comment earned him a slap to the face. He paid Norman for the drinks, and I was surprised he didn't get a frequent customer discount, or at least a membership. I stormed out with Diego following, sipping his coffee as smugly as ever.

Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at Hazakura Temple, the site of the murder. Normally, the place would probably be fairly serene, but at the moment, it was swarming with cops. Diego flashed his attorney's badge, and the detective instantly let us through. Actually, it wasn't really instantly, he stared at me for a moment, letting his dirty green coat sag to the ground, his jaw doing the same.

"One last thing." he said in that ever-cocky tone of his. "Once you enter here, there's no turning back. Is the kitten ready to see the Lion's Feast?"

I nodded, and we walked through the gate. What awaited forced me to cover my mouth to stifle a gasp. The whole room was literally covered in blood, with a lone body impaled with a knife through the chest in the center of the room. The word "justice" was written in capitals above the body in what appeared to be the victim's blood.

Diego smirked. "Told you. Want to step outside for a second?" I nodded and stepped into the snow. While outside I managed to find an empty bottle and a lantern hidden in the snow. Thirty minutes later, Diego came back with the knife , an umbrella, and a sample of the blood.

The veteran defense attorney grinned. "I know we don't have much evidence, but court is always more fun this way, trust me." I sighed and took a sip of the (now cold) hot chocolate, but promptly spit it right out. "The trial starts tomorrow at 10, so be there at 9."

My jaw dropped, kind of like my little sister Maya when _Steel Samurai _was cancelled on account of some infomercial. "But… But I haven't even met the defendant yet! How am I supposed to study court now?"

He smirked again. "Well, sucks to be you." He turned around and started down the mountain path, leaving me gaping after him and blushing for the 3rd time that day. "Ciao."


	2. Courthouse Complications

**Hey, Stefan_sama here again. I'm sorry that updating took so long, lots of homework. Also, court sequences are both _extremely_ hard to write and _extremely _long, so this chapter kind of sucks, in my opinion. As penance, chapter 3 is halfway done, so updating that won't be nearly as long. Also, here's an updated list of characters that will appear or already have: Mia, Diego, Grossberg, Payne, Phoenix, Edgeworth, Larry, Gumshoe, Iris, Maya, Pearls, Eldoon (Sr.), Kristoph, Valant, and the Judge, and Bikini, Basil, Klavier, Drew Misham, and Kay Faraday will all be referenced. In any case, enjoy (though that might be kind of hard)!**

**Chapter 2: Courthouse Complications**

**9 Years Ago**

An hour later saw me lying on the couch, watching a court procedure video and munching Snackoos. Maya had come down from Kurain for a visit for the week. The area around her sleeping bag was covered in potato chip wrappers, burger cartons, and instant ramen containers. And the occasional soda can. Somehow, she was sleeping soundly, as opposed to in the water closet, preoccupied with diarrhea.

Though the volume was on full blast (amazingly, Maya's snoring was louder), my thoughts had wandered elsewhere, over to Grossberg Criminal Defense Law Offices. Mr. Grossberg was probably complaining loudly about his hemorrhoids aching over the secretary's keyboard right about now, with Diego sipping his 101 blends of coffee in the background.

Diego. That selfish, stuck-up, five-year-old, complete moron of a defense attorney… How… I… hate… him…

"Hey! Mia! Sis! Wake up!!"

Startled, I rose up like a cannonball, with Maya falling off of my stomach and onto the floor. "What? Where? Fire?" To my relief, the only trace of red came from the open window, showing the sun blazing down on a pair of birds singing a tune. Then it struck me. _This was January._

I grabbed a pack of Maya's miso ramen, threw on my coat, yelled a goodbye to the still-groggy Maya, who was standing in the hall clutching her Pink Princess doll, and rushed out of the apartment. I ran like I never had before, not even the time when one of the kids in elementary school tripped into a pile of poo during a field trip. Thankfully, the courthouse was only a five-minute walk away. By the time I had burst through the courthouse doors, it was already 9:45.

Diego was there, along with a timid-looking young man who was sitting down, staring at the floor through his spectacles and twiddling with the ponytail resting on his left shoulder. As usual, Diego's greeting consisted of a smirk and an insult. "Well, it seems like the little Kitten finally woke up from her nap."

For once, I managed to ignore him and roll my eyes, keep my cool. Instead, I turned to the teenager sitting on the bench. "Excuse me, but are you the defendant?"

The man managed a nod, but Diego answered for him. "Yeah, this is the guy. Kristoph Gavin. Eighteen years old. Accused of Familicide." A loud bell rang, making me jump. "Oops. Time to go. C'mon, Kitten."

After confirming both sides were ready, the prosecution went ahead with their opening statement. "That timid young man sitting in the defendant's chair is actually a sick and twisted man, Your Honor. While alive, the victim owed the defendant, her cousin, a substantial amount of money. After waiting months to receive it, the defendant clearly became fed-up with waiting and murdered his cousin in cold blood. As for murder method, I'd like to establish that right now, but, seeing as this is her first time in court, perhaps the defense's assistant would like to take a shot…?"

I was a little taken aback by the challenge, but managed to respond. We saw the crime scene, didn't we? It was stabbing, of course."

Diego shook his head. "Green as ever, I see. In court, everything must be supported by _evidence_. Try looking at the court record." He took a large gulp of his coffee. "See the prosecutor bobbing his hair? That's Winston Payne. Because of his style, some of the more stupid have taken to calling him the 'rookie killer'. Of course, a third-rate hack like him couldn't hold a candle to me."

I took a peek, and the method was pretty obvious. "Take that!" I shouted as I presented the knife to the court.

"Good, good." wheezed the prosecutor. "Indeed, the victim was brutally murdered at the hands of that man. Now, witness, if you please, your testimony on the murder circumstances …" The witness nodded and stepped up to the stand, identifying himself as Kendall Gavin, the victim's brother and Kristoph's cousin.

"My sister and I were at the temple that night to do a news article on it, since we work as reporters. I hadn't met Kristoph before, either. Apparently, he had been acquainted with my sister since he met her when she did a story on the restaurant where he holds a part-time job. She owed him money, but seeing our family had to pay for my college, she pitched in, blowing her savings. When she couldn't pay up that night, he… Come to think of it, I don't see why he was at the temple, since we never told anyone about the trip…"

"Hm…" Diego mused. "Your Honor. This is nothing but a summary of the supposed events, which won't lead to anything. The defense requests further testimony on the murder itself."

The Judge nodded, his beard bouncing, exposing bits of what appeared to be _manju_. "Very well. The court grants the defense's request. Witness…?"

Kendall nodded and began to speak, despite the girlish shrieks of the prosecution. "We had come downstairs to get a drink of water. When we came down the stairs, the killer appeared out of nowhere! Seeing my sister, he went in for the kill, stabbing her in the chest… After she fell to the floor, the killer turned on me, knocking me out with his fists when the knife became stuck. When I came to, I was in the Temple Infirmary, with cops swarming everywhere and the word "justice" emblazoned on the wall—"

Diego extended his arm, banging his mug on the table in a fashion similar to a gavel. "Objection!" he yelled, his voice echoing across the room. "Witness. You claim the killer 'started when he saw your sister'. In reality, he could barely see his hand in front of his face on that winter midnight, as illustrated by this low-power lantern!"

You could practically hear the flames burn as Kendall recoiled, his eyes fearful. Payne, on the other hand, managed to keep his cool, for once. Somewhat. "Objection!" he shrieked, banging his fists against the table (which resulted in another, softer shriek, causing him to wince in pain slightly). "This testimony is purely inferential! Of what purpose does this prove?!" he sweated.

Diego smirked. "Obviously, Payne, you still don't get it; it proves two things, both of varying importance. First off, this means our defendant's motive is completely null and void." The jury gasped audibly, hopefully now leaning in our favor. Diego took another mocking sip of coffee. "Second. In the witness' testimony, the witness was supposedly knocked out for a while. In this period, a body could easily have been switched."

Kendall and Payne began to sweat nervously once more. "Surely you aren't saying…?" began the prosecutor.

"You bet I am." said Diego, his voice raising slightly. "If the forensics team were to analyze this blood sample, they would find a complete mismatch and a Hazakura nun missing!"

Silence. I glanced around the room. Time seemed to be frozen. At least, for a few seconds. "WAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!" A bloodcurdling scream bounced off the walls, courtesy of Payne.

The judge banged his gavel thrice in a futile effort to silence the buzzing jury. "Order, order! Order, I say! Mr. Armando! If your speculations are correct, where is the body of the real victim?" he asked as he handed the blood to the bailiff.

Diego smirked again. It was actually getting kind of annoying. "If your honor were to get out once in a while, he would see that the temple lies right next to Eagle River, where the current is so strong that no body has ever been recovered from it."

Both Payne and the Judge blinked. "So, you're saying…?"

He sipped his coffee, nodding. "I'm surprised you haven't gotten it yet. The defense asserts that the real victim is currently lying at the bottom of Eagle River, courtesy of one Kendall Gavin!"

Kendall flinched visibly, but was able to bounce back easily. "But, Herr Lawyer, even if I did kill my sister, why would I try to use a Hazakurian nun's body to duplicate and forge a crime scene and body?"

"Ah, hubris." he said, chuckling. "Do you honestly think that I would raise such an accusation without evidence or even a theory in mind?" He turned to the prosecutor. "Hey, Payne, let me ask you something." The prosecutor practically jumped his height in surprise, barely managing to do more than twiddle his thumbs and sweat. "What happens to a body that isn't found?"

Payne relaxed, obviously delighted to be asked a question he could actually comprehend. "Of course, they would be reported as legally missing until seven years. But, naturally, they are _assumed_ as dead until then."

A smile came to Diego's lips. "Thank you, my dear Hyena." He turned away from the puzzled Payne, who was probably wondering what that question was about and whether Diego's last comment was a compliment or insult. "I'd like to come back to this point later, Your Honor, but for now. I'd like the witness to testify about Eagle River…"

The Judge nodded. "Very well, the Court honors the defense's request. Witness, your testimony on Eagle River, if you please…?"

And so began another testimony, with Kendall closing his eyes in order to recall the scene. "Eagle River has a very strong current, so it doesn't melt in winter. Hence, bodies are never found. It also has a bridge running across it called Dusky. I believe the height from the bridge to the ground is roughly 40 feet… But, anyway, we never went to the bridge that night!"

"Objection!" The words came out just like Maya: with absolutely no self-control. The judge blinked thrice, probably just as confused as I was.

Diego set his mug down, then slapped his forehead. "Kittens may not know better, but this is just ridiculous. You do realize that this is a 'time trial?' That one penalty will _cause us to lose the case instantly…?_" I groaned just as loudly as he did. "The court record better be able to work a miracle…"

Naturally, if the miracle _hadn't _happened, I wouldn't have become such a successful lawyer later. "Here is a photograph taken by the police of the precipice. Clearly shown in the snow is a long, snakelike indentation!"

Another screech came, this time louder than nails on chalkboard. "Objection!" screamed Payne. "Your Honor! We at the Prosecutor's are no fools; we've done our research." _I beg to differ…_ I thought. "As shown by this affidavit from a certain Sister Bikini of Hazakura Temple, the area is filled with snakes of all sorts—"

I countered with an Objection of my own. "I'm afraid (not really) that argument won't work, Mr. Prosecutor. Not with the three contradictions there." Everyone in the courtroom gasped, save for Diego, who was smiling proudly, and Payne, who seemed to be peeing his pants. "The first two contradictions make the appearance of a snake highly improbable: the print is both too wide and too shallow to be a snake." Payne was pretty much bawling at this point. "The third makes a snake nigh impossible. Payne: You claim that prosecutors 'are not fools.' Then, would you care to explain how a cold-blooded animal appeared in the snow?!"

Payne sank to the floor in despair, but Kendall managed to keep his cool. "True, maybe there wasn't a snake (then again, you guys are all lawyers). But, you still haven't proved that we were there. I believe you need some evidence, ja?"

I took a cue from Diego and smirked. "No need. If you examine this photograph of the crime scene, the victim is clearly wearing a scarf… Which matches the imprint exactly!"

"Ughhh…!" came the reply from Payne. "B-But… Your Honor! This line of testimony has absolutely nothing to do with the crime—"

"Objection." came a soft (for once) retort from Diego, shaking his head. "I believe it is finally time to reveal the killer's motive…" He turned to the jury. "Can anyone tell me what a dead person leaves behind?

"Memories?"

"Blood?"

"A will?"

"Exactly. Witness. You took your sister out to the river, then killed her, knowing that you would inherit all. Everything went according to plan until you lost control of the body, sending it plummeting into the gorge below. Realizing you wouldn't get the money, you picked up her scarf, leaving the imprint. Then, you walked down the cleared path, leaving no footprints. You then killed a nun and disguised her as your sister. Finally, to avoid suspicion, you wrote on the wall, since the only one with a clear motive was your cousin, Kristoph."

The witness… Er, the killer was trembling all over, his head down, his arm on the stand. "No… No… This can't be happening… How… Did they know…?" On the other side of the courtroom, Payne was just about saying the same thing.

The Judge blinked again. "What a shocking turn of events… In any case, I see no point in further prolonging this trial. The court hereby finds the defendant, Kristoph Gavin…"

"Not Guilty."

Cheers and confetti erupted from the jury, along with the crying Kristoph. He thanked us many times over, then added that he wanted to become an attorney. After that, he left, humming a tune. "That was close… Almost downed my 17th cup of coffee…" muttered Diego.

"Why 17?"

"I never drink more than 17 cups in a single trial."

"Preposterous. Since when?"

"Since I met you, Kitten. I had drank 17 cups that morning when you came in, remember?"

I sighed. "Honestly… Do you seriously think you can get away with spouting corny lines at a time like this…?"

"Exactly. You've completely fallen for me."

And, of course, I slapped him again.


	3. Christmas Complications

**My dream has been achieved... An update in less than a week! This is my favorite chapter so far, and a drastic improvement over the drivel known as Chapter 2. This one takes place right before case 4 of T&T, which is the Terry Fawles case. I'm done writing chapter 4, so, again, it's just a matter of typing. As a side note, I've scheduled Brushel for a minor appearance. Whee. In any case, enjoy, rate, and review. Please. I really need the self-confidence. **

**Chapter 3: Christmas Complications**

**7 Years Ago**

"Hm… I've heard a lot about that _Très Bien_ place. Want to check it out?"

I groaned, somehow, some way, I had developed some idiotic, boneheaded, childish… Crush… On Diego, and it had all went downhill from there. He was arrogant, selfish, immature, dumb as a post, and he was completely addicted to coffee. For the past two years, I had done nothing but face-palms.

February weather didn't cure stupidity, much to my chagrin. We had put off celebrating Christmas because of a case we had been working on around that time, and now, a month and a half later, the fool wanted to make it up by taking us out.

Worse yet, this was where the immaturity part came in. He was an hour late, his Ferrari ran out of gas again, and he had absolutely no plan on tonight. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. "Whatever you heard, it must have been negative, especially about their "Twin-T" set. Plus, I've heard some… Things… About their coffee."

Diego twisted his features in conveyance of disgust. "Ugh, nothing more sacrilegious than a cup of bad coffee… Fine, how about the noodle stand over there, the one in People Park?"

Ramen was fine with me. Besides, nothing was better than a piping hot bowl in the dead of winter… Besides a piping hot bowl in the dead of winter alone, without a coffee addict sitting next to you.

Neither of us were really hungry at the moment, so the "plan" was to stall for an hour, then eat. The air was so chilly you could see your breath, but, thanks to the coffee-scented scarf Diego had given me the previous year (I spent moths trying to figure out where he bought these things), I didn't mind it. A voice broke me out of my thoughts.

"Hm… Poker. How about it?"

I glanced up. We were outside the Gatewater, which had a large poster on the front door reading "February 15: Free-For-All Poker Tournament. $10 entry fee per person. Winnings Depend Upon What Participants are Willing to Gamble."

I rolled my eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Honestly. You ask a woman out, then take her to a poker tournament?" He grinned, then held the door open.

The Gatewater was a really expensive hotel, and the décor lived up to it, with oriental rugs and glass chandeliers and whatnot. The dim light shone down on roughly 20 tables and 10 times as many people. There were two tables not surrounded by rabid fangirls (sorry, couldn't resist), both with a single empty seat.

At the first table sat a mustachioed magician twirling a staff, tipping his yellow hat to us, a challenge to play him. The second had three teenagers; the first one in a fancy… Pink… Suit, the second in a blue t-shirt and spiky hair, the third wearing a gray sleeveless shirt and developing a goatee. We paid the bellboy and sat down at the second table.

The third one, the one sitting down, flashed a goofy grin. "Hey, man, good luck and all that! How about a… Let's see… $50 wager?"

The suited, silver-haired one bopped his companion on the head. "Larry, you fool!" he hissed. "You don't say 'Hey, man!' to a veteran attorney! Look at the badge on his chest!" Spiky nodded his agreement at the bawling Larry, who was clutching his head and rolling on the floor.

The dealer shrugged, then started doling out cards. Diego began spitting into a portable mug he pulled out of his jacket pocket, along with a pack of instant coffee. Hm. Addicted _and_ poor. Sometimes I worried about him.

I took a peek at his hand. It was pretty good, containing three kings and a couple of queens. Larry, on the other hand, was holding a five, seven, jack, ace, and queen. Him, not so much. Apparently, his friends thoughts so, as well. "Larry, you idiot!" yelled Spiky. "We have to pay every time we lose a match, remember?!?"

Larry's cheeks turned pink. "It ain't my fault!" he protested. "Blame the dealer! Right, Edgey?" "Edgey" quickly turned the other way and began to whistle.

Some hands, a few temper tantrums, a couple bonks, and more coffee later, the game was over, and the victor was clear. Diego had $200 in chips, and Larry had… Five. I felt kind of sorry for him, though his "friends" thought otherwise. Edgey swore and threw the money on the table, following Nick out the door, who was giving Larry the hardest noogie I had ever seen in my life.

Twenty minutes later, Mr. Eldoon plopped a gigantic red bowl in front of me. It looked good enough, but I nearly cried when it hit my mouth; the stuff was saltier than ocean water. I looked to my left. Diego seemed to be doing fine; he was inhaling as fast as ever, noodles, soup, beef, salt, vegetables, more salt, and all.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my own food, only to have a heavy package thump on my left. I swiveled again to meet Diego's smiling face. "Merry (late) Christmas, Kitten." A wave of heat crashed down on the beach that was my face. Inside the bundle laid pictures. Not photographs, but beautiful paintings, each one with a small signature at the bottom reading "D. Misham".

The first one was of Maya, scarfing down a burger at record speed, a gargantuan grin on her face.

The second was of my mother, Misty Fey, before she died, the Sacred Urn in her arms, the faintest trace of a smile showing.

The third was of little Pearl, an ear-to-ear grin, Kid's Masterpiece Theater elements in the background.

Fourth was of Diego, his head back, a coffee mug in front, his Adam's Apple blatantly obvious.

Fifth was myself, arms crossed, a content smile showing, Diego next to me, his arm draped around me.

Tears began trickling down my face as I sorted through them. I then swiveled around in my chair, flinging myself around the idiot, hugging him as hard as I could. When I let finally him go, I pulled a package of my own out of my own from my purse. He feigned surprise, then tore it open like Maya on Christmas Morning.

Packs of coffee spilled out onto the counter. Each one was different: vanilla, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, hazelnut, mint, cinnamon, caramel, milk, sugar, honey, any flavor imaginable. "Perfect, he grinned, sifting through the packs. "I was starting to worry about the creation of Blend 102…"

We thanked Mr. Eldoon, tossing our poker winnings onto the counter. People Park was almost deserted now, the streetlights shining down upon a dark, reflecting stream. The moon was out and full. The area was fairly warm, but not humid.

We sat on the nearest bench. The smells of peppermint, chocolate, and spices wafted from Diego's left hand, the other going behind the bench and resting on my shoulder. "So…" he said airily. "I heard you took on Terry Fawles." I nodded shakily. "How nice. Death Row for a first client."

I groaned. "Don't remind me. You'll be there, right?"

He threw back his head and cackled. "No guarantees there, Kitten. But I can guarantee _one_ thing, though." He shifted, reaching into his pocket, holding in his breath. He flipped open a small black box with his thumb. I stifled a gasp. "Mia. Will you marry me?"

Mr. Eldoon probably would've saved hundreds using my tears as broth that night. "Is that a yes…?" And, of course, it was. He grinned, slipping the ring neatly onto my finger.

Idiots must be getting smoother these days.

______________________________________

I blinked. The park was empty. Mia was sleeping next to me, her head on my shoulders, tears in her eyes and drool in her mouth. Kittens… Can't deal with them, can't live without them.

After much huffing and puffing and panting, I finally managed to get her off. Maya must be getting generous with her ramen. At first, I was just going to leave then and there, but we had gotten here using the Ferrari. I looked around for it. Nothing. Ah, well. The insurance would pay for it. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

I didn't feel like waiting for a taxi, either, so I had to fall back to Plan C. Walk. Piggyback. For five miles. Oh boy.

I hoisted her up on my back. It went fairly well. For two seconds. Then I fell flat on my face, spilling my coffee. Speaking of which, I had to carry the mug, the coffee packs, the paintings, _and_ Mia all at once. In humid Los Angeles. Crap.

Two hours later, battered and bruised, I reached Mia's apartment complex. Come to think of it, I forgot her room number. Maybe I'll just leave her on the floor. That might work well.

Thankfully, Maya came bounding down the steps. "Ooh! Mr. Armando! How'd it go?"

I chuckled, letting Mia slide off my back and onto a bench. Man, that felt good. "Fine. I brought you some ramen. She said yes, by the way." Maya lit up and started jumping up and down, punching the air. "Yes! Now, thanks to your income, we can afford the _good_ instant noodles!" That last comment kind of worried me. Something told me that _I _was going to be the one offering the dowry. My poor paycheck…

Maya began cartwheeling down the hall, screaming bloody murder. Then I heard a crash, a bump, then breaking glass. To be frank, I didn't want to know.

Despite that, Mia was still sleeping. It would probably be best if I left the crime scene. I turned a 180, then another one. I drew back her silky brown hair. My nostrils were assaulted by the fragrance of some sort of flower. She was still drooling. I allowed myself a smirk, wiping it off and onto her scarf. Score one, indeed.

I leaned in.

"Good night, Kitten."


	4. Crying Complications

**Whee, another quick update! Of course, this story's getting more and more popular, so I have a bit of motivation, thanks to you readers. Who oh-so-kindly reviewed. *Cough* In other news, the creepy old Doctor Hickfield will appear soon. I don't remember his first name, but I doubt any of _you_ do, either. If so, congratulations. Anyway, this chapter was a blast to write, mostly because Maya appears. And that, of course, signifies utter chaos. In America. **

**Chapter 4: Crying Complications**

**7 Years Ago**

I slammed the door behind me, collapsing onto the floor. I felt a tear run down my cheek. Fawles died… Diego's hand was injured… Dahlia Hawthorne got away scot-free… And it was all my fault… I burst into tears. Somewhat like Payne, actually.

The door clicked behind me, nudging my back. "Kitten! Are you in there? Open up!" A grunt, a slam. I barely had two seconds to roll away from the now-obliviated wood. Diego stood in the wreckage in a follow-through kick position. "Kitten, are you alright? Listen, it's not your fault that Fawles—"

A new wave of tears came. "What do you know?!?" I sniffed, loosening the ring on my finger and throwing it with deadly speed and accuracy. Diego fell to the floor, clutching his bleeding nose with both hands.

He managed to get up, albeit shakily. "Kitten…" I tried to turn away, but he put a (moist) hand on my shoulder. "Listen. In no way whatsoever is it your fault that Fawles died. It was all that demon woman's fault, and no one else's. I swear to you, no matter what, we will track her down and make her pay. Together."

I turned around shakily, slowly. For once, Diego was smiling genuinely. I collapsed into his arms, crying as hard as I had ever. He patted me on the back softly, whispering. "That's a good girl. Now go take a shower and cool off, okay?"

__________________________________________________________

I looked around. Mia's office was as messy as ever. I could still see traces of Maya's stay last week up until yesterday. That wasn't pleasant.

_"Alright, Kitten. Swear you won't tell anyone?"_

_She lit up. "Yes, sir!" She slammed on the gas and throttled the gear shift, letting out a scream of joy. We hurtled down the hill at 120 miles an hour. I, on the other hand, held onto the handle for dear life and tried not to hurl._

Yeah. That definitely wasn't pleasant.

Mia's cousin, Pearl, had been here the other week, as well. Not fun, either.

_"Diego, would you change Pearl's diapers for me?"_

_Joy. Sure, pick on the coffee addict, why don't we?_

_I sighed and rolled up my sleeves. Pearl was flashing an innocent smile. I grabbed the bottle of baby powder and went in for the kill._

_Unfortunately, Pearl chose that exact moment to fart. Hard._

Huh. So this is what they meant by the horror of in-laws.

_____________________________________

I emerged from the shower sopping wet and wrapped in a towel, and feeling a little better. Water was still dripping from my hair and feet, so I was careful not to walk near the _miso_ ramen that Maya had forgotten.

If I did, let's just say that Los Angeles would be a thing of the past.

The water boiler was on, with a pack of cocoa and a mug next to it. I could hear Diego on the phone in the bathroom. "Tonight? Great. Yep. Mia's feeling a bit down, so she won't know of you coming over, so come quick. Mm-hm. O.K. See you later, Kitten."

I spun around the corner and stifled a breath. Diego wouldn't cheat on me, would he? Not if he proposed the night before, right? In my own apartment, no less! No… No… I sank to the floor, exhausted. It's nothing, right…? I went to go lie down, making a loud thump as I sunk into the sheets.

By the time the doorbell rung, I had convinced myself that Diego was having an affair with me and four other women, one of them a French spy and another a circus member, possibly the bearded lady, and planned to a) murder half of us, and b) reveal his alien blood.

I rushed out desperately, screaming "NOOOOO!!!!!!!" at the top of my lungs, even more tears flying.

Diego stood in the doorway with a confused look on his face. Which quickly turned into a smirk. Next to him stood Maya, suitcases and Steel Samurai DVD collection in both arms. "Hiya, Sis!" she grinned, holding up her hand.

A look of dawning appeared on Diego's face, and he burst out laughing, crying as hard as I was an hour ago. "Bwahahahaha!" he chuckled, clutching his stomach. "Jealous of your sister, Kitten?"

I overheated again and slammed the door in his face. I could still hear the two of them guffawing like maniacs outside as I stormed off.

______________________________

The door creaked open slightly. I flipped on the lamp and grabbed a coffee mug off the counter silently, holding it at the ready. Not exactly the weapon of choice, but it hurt and the coffee stung. Not that I normally gave up my coffee that easily. Especially this late at night.

"Mr. Armando, I can't sleep."

I relaxed. Maya stood in the doorway, looking almost as tired as I was. That makes two sleepless people tonight. "What is it, Kitten? And call me Diego, alright?"

She grinned. "No can do, sir. I can't tell you that until you and Sis get married, and then Aunt Morgan and the Council and maybe Pearl if she's old enough then and my mom if she was still here and me will all be calling you "_that _man."

We both let out a small chuckle. I lit a cigarette (much to Maya's chagrin, and probably Mia's too, if she was awake). "Look, why don't you bug the Kitten over here?" I said, pointing at the snoring figure beside me. "What do you want me to do, anyway, read you a beddy-time book?"

Maya's face grew serious, if that was even possible. "But… But you said Sis had a really tough day, I can't wake her up. She even cleaned out the spare bed so I wouldn't have to sleep on the couch!" Then she grew lighthearted again. "But, what we _can_ do is this!" She held up a black box, two controllers, and a case reading_ Steel Samurai 2: VENGEANCE._

Five minutes later, we were seated, legs crossed, lamps on, shoulders scrunched, back hunched, energy drink/double-shot coffee in hand, faces two centimeters away from the TV screen. The volume was muted, but the clacking buttons still could've woken a regular person up. Emphasis on regular.

If there was a lesson I learned that night, it would be to never play video games with your future in-laws. Just as I took a sip of coffee, Maya let out something she had likely been holding in for hours. "Hey, Mr. Armando, how long will it take for me to be an aunt?" Suffice to say the TV was now wet. _Very_ wet.

"Take That!" she yelled, a bit louder than I would've liked. A large "K.O." appeared in red, flashing letters. The Nickel Samurai was doing an odd victory dance over the Tin Samurai's unconscious body.

"I see we don't have to have _that _talk…" I muttered dryly, much to Maya's amusement.

_________________________

_Mr… Armando… Thanks… For… The… Coffee…_

I sat up and let out a gasp. The room was dark, the clock read 3:00 AM. To my right, Diego was sleeping soundly, his hands behind his head. Maya was lying on her back as well, her head resting parallel on Diego's stomach, her limbs splayed out wildly.

I sighed and smiled. This was life. People like Dahlia Hawthorne disrespected it. And she would pay dearly for it. Diego and I would make sure of that. Together.


	5. Cafeteria Complications

**Man, I'm really on a roll with these short updates. This is a good chapter, but a lot less lighthearted than the other chapters (excluding 2, which I do not count as a chapter), so it may seem a tad different. As far as I've decided, there will be 7 chapters total, so enjoy it while it lasts. Which, at the rate I'm going, might not be all too long.**

**Chapter 5: Cafeteria Complications**

**7 Years Ago**

I folded my hands in front of my mouth and glanced at the clock again. Ten minutes to go. I sighed and stirred the darkness sitting in the mug in front of me. For the first time in my life, coffee didn't seem so enticing. How correct I would soon prove to be.

The café wasn't very crowded, not surprising considering that it was three in the afternoon. The only people there besides the cafeteria employees were a nerdy-looking guy writing on his arm and nodding over his tea and a spiky-haired teenager who looked vaguely familiar for some reason. Even he left down the stairs, probably headed for the reading room or something.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the clock struck four precisely, and _she _appeared.

Dahlia Hawthorne.

She saw me immediately and smiled angelically, cocking both her head and parasol. She pulled the chair opposite me back and sat down, her silk gloves resting on the table, masking the claws underneath. She smiled again. "Hello, Mr. Armando. What was it you wanted to talk about?"

I narrowed my eyes and growled; lion against fox. "You know what I'm talking about, Kitten. The diamond. Valerie. Fawles. I even received word of you stealing atroquinine from the Ivy University Pharmacology Department the other day. Why?"

She showed a small flicker of unreadable emotion, but quickly covered it up with another smile. "Mr. Armando. Just as you ingest the bitter darkness, so I choose to envelop myself in it…"

I scowled. So this is what Mia meant by "cryptic and meaningless metaphors". I tried to down more coffee, but my insides froze. My past cups of coffee must have been coming back to haunt me. If so, I had a _long _trip to the bathroom. "Gotta go… Cramps… Ugh… One second…" I clutched my stomach and ran off toward a sign reading "Men's".

Fifteen minutes later, I emerged back in the cafeteria. Dahlia Hawthorne was still sitting there, but she was no longer smiling like an angel: she was smirking like a demon. "Surely you know, Mr. Armando. Atroquinine is a very slow-acting poison…"

It was then that I realized how close Mia truly was when she called me an idiot. "No…!" My stomach flamed, and I sank to the ground. "Ugh…!"

Then my worst fears were realized. Mia came bursting through the doors. She rushed over to the table, barely noticing the smirking Dahlia Hawthorne. "Diego…! Diego!!" she screamed, crying again.

I tried to tell her "Don't worry about me." I tried to tell her "Take care of yourself." I tried to tell her "Say goodbye to Maya and Pearls for me." I tried to tell her "Make sure to water Charley." I tried to tell her "I'm sorry." I tried to tell her "You can't cry yet." I tried to tell her "I Love You."

But all I could see was a red-headed demon smiling, exiting the room, clutching a gold locket. All I could hear were the cries of my beloved. All I could feel was the darkness closing in.

And all I could say was one word.

"Kitten…"


	6. Coma Complications

**Second to last chapter! There will be a sequel though, but it's probably going to be a oneshot. I've moved the references of Klavier, Lisa Basil, and Kay down until then. Anyhow, enjoy, because I'm really running out of things to write here...**

**Chapter 6: Coma Complications**

**3 Years Ago**

The hospital was dark. The only light came from sort of machine that appeared to measuring Diego's heartbeats. It was so close to being a flat line. All thanks to that woman. That demon.

Diego's hair was completely white. An oxygen mask covered his mouth. He was sweating bullets, and seemed to be in pain. But he couldn't do anything about it. Neither could the doctors. He couldn't even take his blankets off.

But Dahlia Hawthorne had been incriminated. She was on death row. Fawles and had been avenged. Fey and Co. Law Offices was almost as famous as Grossberg Criminal Defense. Phoenix was learning rapidly. Maya and Pearls were growing up. Everything was perfect. But Diego wasn't here to see it.

I sighed and reached for the journal (more like tome) sitting on the darkened counter, flipping through the 1437 other entries to next blank page, drawing a pen out of my chest pocket. And I began to write.

________________________________________

_August 4, 2016_

_I'm sorry I couldn't visit you yesterday. Phoenix was having his first trial, and I had to be there. We won by a hair, which is amazing we won at all considering the defendant. You know, for a "Rookie Killer" Payne sure seems to lose a lot to them. I find it kind of hard to believe he had a perfect win record for seven years._

_After we won, Maya, Phoenix and I all went out to the restaurant on the Gatewater's first floor to celebrate. You should have seen Maya's face when she found out they didn't serve ramen. Suffice to say there was a "missing persons" report for a chef in the paper this morning. In the end, she settled for a "gourmet" burger. I can still feel my wallet bleeding._

_Thankfully, they were holding that same Poker Tournament that was happening when you took us out. It's been what, three years now? Anyway, Phoenix is amazingly good at poker; he won six straight games without batting an eye. Sometimes I wonder what he'd be if he wasn't a lawyer…_

_Remember Kristoph Gavin? The one we defended when I first came to the office? He dropped by the other day. He even brought his little brother Klavier along. He's set on becoming a rock star when he grows up, and he plays the part well. The only problem I see with that is his thick German accent, and maybe his unicorn hair. He says he'll cut it, but that probably wouldn't go well._

_Speaking of things not going well, Kristoph brought over some German import beer, and Maya got her hands on some. And then she gave some to Phoenix. Both of them are currently drooling on the office couch surrounded by a sea of beer bottles and aspirin boxes. Amazingly enough, Klavier drank even more and is now playing a concert in the Gatewater Ballroom as soundly as ever. I hope the cops don't show up at the office and ask Maya for her age._

_Thankfully, Charley wasn't damaged at all. I still water him, and amazingly, he's still alive. You must have bought some sort of mutant, alien breed of plant. You got him when, five years ago? That flower guy _did _look pretty shady, with his goatee and lopsided smirk and tongue sticking out and winking eye and thumb up and all. Detective Dick Gumshoe says that Charley is a _Cordyline Stricta, _but he probably just picked something that sounded scientific off the top of his head._

_Speaking of science… Well, Lana (the prosecutor I told you about) brought her sister Ema over this morning. She's absolutely obsessed with forensics, she even wears a big white coat and obnoxiously large pink glasses, much to Lana's chagrin. She's actually been under a lot of stress lately, even before she had to pay for Ema's forensics addiction. Apparently, some "family"- I think they're called the Cadaverinis or something- just smuggled in a bunch of Borginian Cocoons._

_Unfortunately, Kristoph and Klavier were still there when Lana and Ema came. Kristoph and Lana got along just fine, even though they're usually on opposite sides of the courtroom. Ema and Klavier, not so much. I believe he called her __Fräulein__, which she probably took as an insult or didn't know what it meant. So she took to calling him Glimmerous Fop. And then it went to blows. Actually, more like slapping and scratching. Then Lana threatened to press charges for assault._

_I'd like to keep writing, but I have to go for two reasons. The first one is that we're investigating Bluecorp. The president, Redd White, is probably the one who leaked the information about DL-6 to the press. We're almost ready to press charges. Second, if I leave Maya and Phoenix alone for too long, I'll be expecting a huge takeout bill when I come home._

_I love you, so wake up soon._

_-Mia_

_________________________________

I sighed and glanced up. The clock read 7:05. Oh dear. The later it was, the hungrier Maya would be, and the thinner my wallet would be.

A loud gasp mentally shook me out of my thoughts. Diego seemed to be in even more pain than before, his chest rising and falling rapidly, emitting sharp cries of pain.

I closed my eyes, leaned over, and softly brushed my lips against his.

His cries instantly ceased. His breathing quickly slowed to normal.

And I could have sworn I saw the faintest trace of a content smile.


	7. The Fragrance of Dark Coffee, Indeed

**Here we go! The Final Chapter (*epic drum beats*)!! This story was a blast to write, mostly because I could identify so closely with Mia; it really sucks to be us. There WILL BE A SEQUEL, but the length depends, probably three chapters at most. That'll be fun, too, it'll just take a while to write, especially since I'm getting serious about writing that Fire Emblem fic I never got around to. Anyway, enjoy the finale!**

Again, for those who couldn't be bothered to read the Author's notes,

**THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL!**

**Finale: The Fragrance of Dark Coffee, Indeed**

**3 Years Ago**

Darkness. Complete and Utter Darkness. The only light came from directly in front of me. Mia Fey. She smiled and embraced me, standing on the tips of her feet. We stared into each other's eyes for a moment, then kissed. When we finally released, Mia Fey was no longer there.

She was replaced with Dahlia Hawthorne. She smiled as well, but this was a different type of smile. She held out her hand, and an all-too familiar locket appeared. She reached up and kissed me again, and this was a kiss of death.

Suddenly the darkness gave way to nothing. Nothing but those demonic, shining eyes. I fell.

________________________________

I screamed and sat up, emerging in a dark hospital room to the fragrance of dark coffee. Some sort of metallic mask was attached to my face. My breathing slowed down after what seemed like an eternity. The blanket fell away to reveal a sweating hand. I tried to move the hand. It did. It was obviously mine, but it didn't feel like it: somebody else was following my commands.

The sound of breathing not of my own prompted me to look to my left. There were two men sitting there, mouths agape. The first had pink hair, a stethoscope, and lots of gold teeth. The other was skinnier, with a pink tie and cheeks and a very bad haircut.

Seeing me turn toward him, the second one regained his senses and began scribbling on his arm madly, nodding all the while. "Amazing!" he squeaked. "Veteran defense attorney survives atroquinine poisoning, wakes up from coma and comes back to dead fiancé', end quote!" The doctor just dropped his coffee on the floor and continued staring.

I grabbed the journalist by the scruff of his neck and pulled him close, ignoring his spluttering and minty teeth. "What year is it? What happened to Mia Fey?" I growled, emphasizing the last question by squeezing tighter.

"2016, S-Sir!" he stuttered meekly. "She was murdered last week, sir! But she was avenged by her pupil, Phoenix Wright—" I squeezed even harder, forcing him to quickly intake more air. "Please let me go', end quote…" he begged weakly.

I released my grip and he fell to the floor, clutching his neck and gasping for breath. The doctor hurried over to the counter and grabbed a stack of what appeared to be diaries, holding them out to me with his right hand, his left scratching his bald head and emitting a toothy grin.

I took them, walking out of the hospital and into the sun. It burned, but I could worry about that later. The mask made it better anyway. The journalist appeared, twisting his tie around his head (don't ask me) and called after me. "Please, wait, you still need additional treatment', end quoooooooooooote!!" I ignored him and ran off.

Cars and bikes honked at me as I ran through the traffic. Kids yelled at me as I ran through their sandboxes. Workers yelled at me as I ran through their construction sites. Come to think of it, I could've died many times over that day. But none of that mattered right now.

Finally, I reached the one door in the city that I needed. I produced a key from my pocket and forced the door open, which swung aside to reveal the apartment inside.

Nothing had changed; everything was as I had left it. Instant ramen containers littered the floor. Paperwork covered the table. Charley was sitting in the corner. Occult paraphernalia decorated the walls, accompanied by the paintings I had given her.

Mia was sitting at the table smiling, two cups of coffee in hand. "Welcome home." She whispered. I began to tear up and wiped the water away with my elbow. When I opened my eyes, it was a completely different place.

The floor was actually discernible. There was a new desk. The shelf behind it held volumes of law books as opposed to Steel Samurai merchandise. The scarf on the coat-hanger was replaced with a blue suit. And Mia was gone. Gone.

I dropped the diaries, forgetting I even possessed them in the first place. I scooped them up and walked slowly into the bedroom Mia and I had shared all those years ago. This was the only place that was unchanged. My coffee and cigarettes still sat on the counter, albeit covered in dust, Mia's clothes were still strewn all over the floor.

I picked them up and sniffed them. Mia flooded through me, causing me to cry again. I held them to my chest and rocked back and forth, closing my eyes, softly humming a tune Mia had taught me so long ago.

I sat up and opened the first journal, tracing the letters slowly, whispering them out loud, ignoring the tears running down my cheeks. Every day for four years, she had poured out her heart and soul into me. But now I was completely unable to respond.

I stumbled out into the pouring rain, clutching the journals to my heart like a mother protecting her kittens. But my Kitten was gone forever.

All around me, couples were sharing umbrellas and snuggling against each other. I would never be able to feel that warmth again. The rain pounded down relentlessy on my screaming figure. I shouted her name to the heavens over and over until I was hoarse and collapsed to the wet ground in exhaustion. But it was no use. Phoenix Wright had failed us when he was needed most.

It was then that I realized why that hand had seemed so strange. That wasn't my hand. Mia Fey wasn't the only one who had passed away and left this world. Diego Armando was dead as well, dead in his sleep. Nothing was left under that name any longer. Not even The Fragrance of Dark Coffee.

-Fin-


End file.
